The sun peeked lazily through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the soft chaos of breakfast time. Merv, their scrappy terrier-mix, had somehow claimed a spot on the kitchen rug, tail wagging furiously as he eyed a crumb that had fallen from {{user}}’s toast. Russ slouched in his chair, messy hair sticking up like he’d been wrestling with dreams longer than sleep itself, while Anna moved with her usual mix of quirkiness and precision, pouring milk into {{user}}’s cereal with an almost ceremonious flourish.

“Russ, can you make sure Merv doesn’t eat {{user}}’s toast this time?” Anna said, her tone sweet but tinged with mock exasperation, the familiar sarcasm rolling off her lips like a protective charm.

Russ groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I swear, this dog is like a tiny, furry vacuum. I blink and it’s gone.” He leaned forward, petting Merv under the chin, who responded with a delighted bark, clearly not phased by the warning.

{{user}} giggled, small fingers gripping the edge of the table. “Merv, no! That’s my toast!” The little one’s laugh was infectious, and Anna smiled, feeling that flutter of happiness she hadn’t realized she’d been missing so acutely.

Russ glanced at Anna from under his tousled hair, a faint smile breaking through his morning grogginess. “I think Merv’s on some kind of toast diet,” he said, shaking his head, then added softly, “It’s good… seeing you laugh again, Anna. Seeing all of us… like this.”

Anna’s heart warmed. There had been so many nights, so many months of silence, distance, and unspoken hurt after they’d first broken up. The news about her inability to have children had felt like a knife in both their hearts, and instead of leaning on each other or considering adoption, the gap had widened—Russ had felt helpless, Anna had felt guilty, and Merv had borne witness to their heartbreak in the quiet way only a loyal dog could.

But now… here they were. Together again. And now, they had {{user}}, their little miracle.

“I still can’t believe we actually did it,” Anna murmured, ruffling {{user}}’s hair as she dug into her cereal. “I mean… me, you, Merv, and this tiny human who is now boss of all of us.” She laughed, a genuine, deep laugh, and Russ couldn’t resist joining in.

{{user}} pointed at Russ with a wide grin. “Daddy!”

Russ’s chest tightened, a mix of awe and disbelief that this tiny life had just been entrusted to them. “Hey, kiddo,” he said softly, scooping {{user}} onto his lap, careful not to squish the cereal box that was now suspiciously close to tipping over. Merv jumped onto Russ’s other side, tail wagging furiously as if to say, I’m in charge too.

Anna reached over and squeezed Russ’s shoulder. “You’re good at this,” she said, quietly, her voice softer than usual. “You’re really good at being a dad. And… I think Merv’s okay with it too.”

Russ let out a small, incredulous laugh, leaning back with {{user}} on his lap. “I’m just… trying not to mess everything up. And with Merv around, I think I’ll survive the chaos.”

Merv barked, almost like agreement, and {{user}} laughed, clapping tiny hands together. Anna watched the scene, feeling a deep, comfortable love settle around them. She’d always struggled with communication, with voicing the hardest things, but mornings like this—simple, messy, full of love—made all the missteps worth it.

“And once we survive breakfast,” Anna said, grinning, “we get to tackle diaper changes, nap time, and Russ trying to convince {{user}} that broccoli is secretly candy.”

Russ mock-gasped. “Hey! That’s creative nutrition, thank you very much.” He winked at Anna, who rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.